The Mercury Chronicles: Angelica
by respitechristopher
Summary: Albus gets a girlfriend. James gets his, too. Hugo runs for cover. The 'Puffs keep order. Rose and Scorpius stay snarky and fabulous. Ginny's not pleased. And everyone's in everyone else's business. More Mercurial Madness!
1. Beginnings

**Dear Mercurial Minions:** I swore it was never going to happen, but here it is: a Mercurial Trio chapter fic. Here's the drill: I may very well update this one before writing anything else. I may never get it completed. But the story of Albus and Angelica simply won't fit into a one-shot, so I won't do it a disservice by trying to shoehorn it into that format. I will tell you that reviews are rather like bribes, and as much as I'd rather it weren't the case, I tend to update more often the more reviews I get.

Also of note: I'm not putting this one into the compilation. In fact, I'm going to retire that compilation. Instead, I'll point you to some "prerequisite" fics in the author's note to each story. Like this:

**Mercurial Prerequisites:** Albus Potter and the Misspent Youth, Mercury Chronicles: A Hogsmeade Debut.

And now, thralls and minions of the Fowlest Lord Albus Potter, please enjoy:

**The Mercury Chronicles: The Ballad of Albus and Angelica**

Angelica Moran and I were partners in every class, and had been since first year. By and large, that was the extent of things between us for our first two years at Hogwarts, but that was more than okay. She had quite the head for academics, but very little diligence, which made us perfect partners. Angelica would be the first to perfect a spell or a potion and bring me along in the classroom, while I would have my notes open on the table for her to look off of, so that she could catch up during class and have easy access to an answer for the professor if called upon. Because she rarely studied outside of class, her marks were middling, but she reckoned that the only marks that truly mattered were O.W.L. and N.E.W.T. scores; and she had plenty of time to buckle down when she needed to. For the first four years of our time at Hogwarts though, Angelica preferred to spend her evenings learning as much as she could about the Magical world; its written and (especially) its unwritten rules, and how best to push both its magical and cultural/societal boundaries. She was a fair student at best, but she was a brilliant girl.

So our first and second years were spent thusly, with smiles, waves and small talk punctuating the interludes between class days. She was, of course, a regular at our tables evenings, and often helped me remember the names of our fellow students, scratching an inconspicuous 'Fawcett' or 'Harold' on a piece of parchment as I began to bluff my way past addressing someone by name. She quickly learned the rules to the various Exploding Snap games, and taught me a few muggle card games as well. Aunt Hermione found it rather amusing to hear that Go Fish could be played as a bloodsport, but much of the money I won off of Angelica from Poker (we found seven card stud a much more civilised alternative to the ubiquitous Texas Hold 'Em), I gave back in Go Fish and Bullshit. Dad reckoned that if I'd learned to gamble with an Irishwoman, I should be cleaning up at Monte Carlo in no time.

By third year we had become quite good friends; actively seeking out each other's company. We spent several nights up quite late in the common room in lengthy conversation about the war, which had become quite the tediously long module in History of Magic. Older pureblood families had spent two decades in complete self-flagellation mode, with 'Never Again' a frequent refrain at society functions. This of course meant that Slytherin House (still largely dominated by the older families) spent a good deal of time discussing The War. Angelica being Angelica, she was determined to find out exactly as much about this subject as she needed to bluff her way through a conversation. Her questions were insightful and probing, and as topics moved from The War to reconstruction to current politics, she became more and more interested in the role muggleborns play in society, and how that had changed over the last thirty years or so.

I started to notice things had changed sometime in third year. She started to shy away from the small, chaste kisses I would also give Rose and Scorpius. She had blushed before, but had never just walked away like she started to do after Yuletide holidays. So I stopped, obviously not wanting to offend her or put her in an awkward situation. She had been an excellent ally during those first few years at Hogwarts, and I was loath to jeopardise what we had. Not that Rose and Scorpius were any help, mind. They spent most of the first three months of 2020 poking fun at what they saw as 'blossoming young love'. I explained as how I couldn't see any change at all in the relationship Angelica and I had had ever since we were sorted, and they just laughed that much harder.

It wasn't until another Slytherin girl approached me one day after Potions that I gave any credence to the matter whatsoever. She grabbed my arm very tentatively as we were heading toward our next class, then nodded to the back of the herd of students so we would be out of earshot.

"Your regular Potions partner was out today, Albus," she said, a rather accusatorial tone to her voice.

"So I'd noticed," I replied, cursing this classmate silently for making me bluff an entire conversation as if I knew who she was. She had been sitting at our tables faithfully for two years by this point. "Is she ill?"

"Aye," she replied, "she's resting up in the dormitory."

"And you've been sent 'round to see if I'll pay her a visit?"

"No, Albus. I came on my own."

There was a pause as she gathered her thoughts. We were going to be late for Transfiguration; the longest walk between classes of the week.

"We really need to –"

"She fancies you, ye daft git," the girl said, huffed and walked away, leaving me standing in the corridor with a rather uncomfortable and unwelcome comical expression on my face.

"Rose, Scorpius," I called out that evening as we broke from supper to head back to our respective common rooms. Rose stopped and grabbed a hold of Scorpius's cloak. Scorpius spun around dramatically.

"My liege," he said, and bowed with a flourish. I smacked the back of his head as he up righted himself. Rose snickered slightly into her hand.

"A lovely evening for a stroll around the lake, what?" I offered. It was overcast and 5°C; not bad for April in the Highlands, all things considered. Rose took a look at the concern on my face and nudged Scorpius.

"Smashing," she replied. "I don't think we'll even need warming charms." I offered an arm to each of them and placed a kiss on Rose's cheek.

"That's how to be a good minion," I told Scorpius. This time it was Rose's turn to hit the back of my head. "Ow! Bad minion! Bad minion! No Cruciatus for you tonight!" I said to Rose with a loud laugh in my voice as we passed the Gryffindor table. Rose winked at Freddie, who blanched visibly. I grabbed Rose and Scorpius's arms, placing a kiss on each of their cheeks as we began our stroll arm in arm in arm.

"It's Angelica," I said, as soon as we were far enough from the castle that I felt I could drop some measure of bravado. "She was missing from Potions today, and I think it might have something to do with me." Scorpius laughed.

"Finally figured out that those Irish eyes have been smiling your way, have you?" he quipped, earning himself a glare from Rose. "Really now, darling. Can't we take a bit of the piss out of him? We're his friends after all, I reckon it's our duty."

"Oh Scorpius, look at the poor thing," she replied as if I weren't standing right there. "He's so confused. Honestly, we should let him figure out whether he fancies her back before laying into him mercilessly."

There are moments in life I've found that once I've opened my mouth, I can't un-say what I've just said, and my life takes a rather dramatic turn as a result. Normally I'd like to have thought this one out better, but some things are even out of my steel trap-like self-control.

"Well of course I fancy her back, I didn't – "

Oh dear. Rose doesn't 'get her girl on' often, but when she does, watch out. She was staring at me with a look somewhere between the one Mum gets on her face whenever Uncle Ron talks about digging up Basilisk teeth and the one Aunt Hermione gets whenever Hugo talks about the unfairness of something. Either way it doesn't suit her, and frightens me to no end. Scorpius looked as though he didn't know whether to burst up laughing or hug me with pride. That we stood there in silence for a moment turned out to be useful, as I heard a familiar chortle behind me that was rather unsuccessfully smothered by a hand.

I didn't turn around right away, preferring to gather up a bit of strength, take two very deep breaths gathering a bit of magical energy together along with my wand, and then I fairly hollered as I spun around.

"_ACCIO_ _INVISIBILITY CLOAK!'_

Hugo barely flinched. I suppose he knew they were found out as soon as James laughed. James, on the other hand, had a rather gob smacked look on his face. Normally this would have been the point at which he lay into me, but with three wands trained on him, he kept his gob shut. Sort of.

"You… Third year… Summon… How?"

"James dear," Rose said pityingly. "Close your mouth. It's not a good look, and you might catch flies that way."

"As to how I know the Summoning Spell," I continued, "did it ever occur to you that we are in a school of magic? What do you think we do in the Great Hall all day, plan our next wacky prank? Did you ever stop to wonder – between Quidditch matches, that is – why the Hufflepuffs in your year are challenging the Ravenclaws for top marks? What have you learned this whole time, _Gryffindor_? How best to sneak into the kitchens? How to avoid Mr Filch and Mrs Norris while stealing the components for your homemade dungbombs?" I then shot a withering glare at Hugo.

"And you? Is this the kind of example you really want to follow during your time here? Skulking around under cloaks looking for juicy gossip? What the hell are you doing here anyway, Hugo?"

"I, well," He took a deep breath. "I honestly didn't know what was going on." 'Honestly – that was the code word we gave him to give to us in case he was caught undercover. Okay, as I thought, he had our backs.

"Just get out of here," I spat, and he took off back for the castle at a full run. James looked at the three of us with our wands out and chuckled.

"You know, folks are starting to talk about the three of you. Always off on your own like you are; taking these 'walks'. People are starting to wonder what you get up to out here. I figured I'd find out.

"Really," I said, sliding next to Scorpius and putting my arm around him. "What kinds of things are they saying, James?"

"Um, well, they…" James was obviously at a loss for words.

"_Incarcerous__"_ shot out from my mouth and my wand, and he became a rather shell-shocked prisoner.

"Do they wonder how many times a week I'm out here buggering Scorpius?" I purred at James, who began to thrash against his bonds. "Do you think they'd like to watch?" I added, running my hand through the back of Scorpius's hair and tracing another hand up and down his torso. Scorpius acted his part exceptionally, cupping my chin and looking longingly into my eyes.

"But you aren't… But Moran! What was…?"

"Oh James," Rose laughed, her voice taking a husky tone. "You don't really think a powerful wizard like Albus would be satisfied with just one plaything, do you? And a sensitive lover like the Dark Lord Potter deserves all the affection he can get. I bet you'd _love_ to watch a little cousin-on-cousin action out here, wouldn't you? That's why you brought the cloak, isn't it?" Rose began to drag her wand up and down James's chest, stopping at his privates and whispering breathily into his ear as she continued. "You wanted to wank that little man of yours whilst watching a bit of cousin-on-cousin, didn't you?" And she tugged on James's earlobe with her teeth by way of punctuation. "And what was Hugo then, a distraction?" James about lost it then.

"You're sick, the lot of you!" he screamed. "Mum and Dad are going to here about all of this, what you're doing out here, the unnatural…"

"How are you planning on telling them how you found us, dear brother?" I asked, planting a kiss on Scorpius's cheek and stepping away from him. "Are you going to tell them you were using this" I held up the cloak "to find us? Oh, and what about – _Accio Marauders Map!_ " No map was present.

"Ha!" James laughed. "Lily has – damn!" I chuckled.

"Going to give her up too, are you? Right. I'll expect those howlers from Mum any day now, James. Meanwhile, we have a ménage-à-trois to get to, minions." I nodded to Rose and Scorpius, and we headed back to the castle, arm in arm in arm, leaving James in the binds with the invisibility cloak lying next to him. The seventh-year Slytherin prefect we ran into was very interested to find that cloak when we told him we had seen a student in trouble by the lake. Unfortunately for the prefect though, Professor Longbottom was able to send it straight back to Dad a couple of days later.

The tables were full of Hufflepuffs when we arrived back in the Great Hall. They asked where we'd been and I told them, leaving out the reason why we went for a walk in the first place and what we did to James when we discovered him. The 'Puffs didn't look amused when they heard about someone sneaking up on the three of us.

"This will be taken care of, Albus," was their collective response, and they pulled out an exploding deck to help me take my mind off of things. Angelica asking to be dealt in three hands later didn't help. Rose winked at me when she sat down.

"You need to teach her how to be a better Slytherin." Angelica said, noticing the wink. Her voice had a nearly mournful tone.

"I would, but she's spent so much money on accessorising blue and bronze, it just wouldn't be fair." That brought a smile to her face. "Feeling better? We missed you in Potions."

"Right. No excuse, really, just skived off. Did you take notes?"

"Of course. Oh, it's your play." Angelica played one of the cards in her hand just as it was about to go off.

"Thanks, love. But I think it's your play, actually. Chly talked with me earlier."

"Who?"

"Chly – Clytemnestra? Clytemnestra Lambton? Mousy brown hair, vague smile on her face? Merlin, Albus," she whispered, "the nosy bint that told you I fancy you."

"Oh, right. So that's her name, then? Pureblood, I assume."

"She _is_ Slytherin, but… No fair changing the subject."

"Right." I took a deep breath. "Perhaps we should head someplace else to talk about this?"

We excused ourselves and headed towards the Slytherin common room. Angelica and I had taken this walk many times, but at that moment I couldn't remember another instance in which neither of us had books in our hands. My hands felt conspicuously empty, and hers were just swinging there as we walked. It seemed dreadfully forward of me at the time, but I nonetheless grabbed her hand and held it as we walked, which brought a smile to both our faces.

We walked in silence the rest of the way, a rather contented feeling hovering over us. We encountered more than our share of double-takes as we passed other students along the way, and the level of conversation in the Common Room dropped significantly as we walked in. I walked her all the way to the girls' staircase, not letting go of her hand. She paused a moment before heading upstairs.

"So you're okay with me fancying you then?" she asked, still a bit cautious in her bearing. I smiled warmly as I responded.

"Quite. But you do know there will be consequences?" She looked at me – nearly through me – for a good few seconds. Then her demeanour became simultaneously softer and more direct.

"You mean like this?" Angelica reached for my face gently, bringing her lips to mine in a sweet, soulful, lingering kiss that I felt in my toes. "I don't mind consequences like that at all." All I could do was smile in response.

"Goodnight then, Albus," she said, and turned to head upstairs. I grabbed her wrist and pulled her back towards me. Then it was my turn to kiss her; a bit less sweet and a bit more impatient than the kiss she had given me.

"I'll see you at breakfast," I told her, and slowly walked to the boys' dormitories.


	2. Episode V: The Gryffindors Strike Back

**Author's Note:** The story _"Mercury Chronicles: A Hogsmeade Debut"_ is absolutely required reading for this chapter. Much of the following will make little sense without knowing what went down earlier in Albus's third year.

**Mercurial Minions:** Thanks for indulging the long wait on this one; it was a bit of a personal chapter, and therefore a tough one to write. Do remember while reading it that a) the story is being told from Albus's perspective and through his eyes, and 2) it's not the last chapter in the story by a long shot. If I get around to it, I'll add some more notes about this on my LJ page (accessible from my profile). Until then, enjoy and please review.

**Chapter Two:**

Boarding school romance was made for thirteen-year-olds. We had all the space in the world to make doe-eyes at each other, to sneak off into abandoned classrooms and broom closets for 'remedial Quidditch lessons,' as the 'Puff boys would call it. (Per their rather tedious allegory, I managed to score through the left hoop and the right hoop that year, not worrying about either the centre hoop or catching the snitch.) As far as gossip went, most students fourth-year and below had seen our relationship coming long before we did, so the general hubbub around a new couple was spared us, for the most part.

Third-year Angelica was a model girlfriend, all things considered. She didn't have any 'boyfriend rules' (one poor fourth-year 'Puff apparently was made to sit at the other end of the dining tables from his girlfriend and his own circle of friends for breakfast, as she didn't want him to see her before she was 'presentable'. He wound up sitting at the Ravenclaw table for breakfast with Rose and Scorpius until he came to his senses), she wasn't terribly demanding of presents or owls bearing love-notes, as was the present Hogwarts fashion (Oh look. Whoever could it be from? Excuse me, we're eating here), and although we were hardly subtle about our feelings for one another, she was perfectly Slytherin about the displays of affection. So the broom-closet brigade had its youngest members of the year. And neither Angelica nor I needed worry about dates for those last two Hogsmeade trips. But the seeds for the very thing that would tarnish those halcyon days were being sowed even as they themselves were just starting.

Two days after I walked Angelica back to the Slytherin classrooms, I was delighted to see my brother, James, along with Freddy and Roxanne, enter the Great Hall for supper in just dreadful shape. They had murder in their eyes as they approached the Hufflepuff table, wands out, looking for revenge. The male sixth-year prefect intercepted them, which is when the voices started to raise, and the four of us drew our own wands in anticipation of bad things.

"Twenty second- and third-years are still twenty against three, Thompson! I have a Quidditch match next week against Ravenclaw; you can't simply let the little bastards—"

"Easy now, Potter, watch what you call my Hufflepuffs."

"You mean you're going to defend those little turds?"

"Those _students_ are my housemates, and I will defend them with my wand, if needs be."

"And it's that kind of misplaced loyalty to these little shites here – "

And that's where things began to get ugly. James and the Twins had come around to the Slytherin and Ravenclaw tables to where the three of us plus Angelica were sitting. The younger half of Hufflepuff house got up out of their seats, wands drawn. As did each prefect and each third-year in Ravenclaw and Slytherin. I stood up, and James began to rant louder, so I silenced all three trespassing Gryffindors.

"You were the one who followed me under the invisibility cloak, James," I began. "You didn't have to do that. I wanted some privacy to talk with my friends about something sensitive. You're my older brother, James. You should have been protecting me from people who'd do that, not be the person from whom I needed protection." I ended the silencing charm on James to allow him to apologise.

"Older brother? Right. The moment that hat said 'Slytherin,' I – " I silenced him again.

"Gryffindor," I said softly. "Get back to your own table. You're not welcome here." I cancelled the silencing charm on the three of them and sat back down with my back towards them, picking at my supper. Angelica put her arm around me, and Scorpius and Rose moved over to the Slytherin table to keep me company.

"Oh look," Roxanne said with a sneer, "The Malfoy's finally sat down with the snakes where he belongs." She got broadsided by a jelly-legs jinx for her cheek, and that's when the faculty got involved. Uncle Neville swooped in to collect his Gryffindors, undoing the hex, and the other heads of house stopped by their tables to diffuse tension.

"Right. Back to your house tables you lot. We don't want any problems here," Professor Venenio admonished us. Rose and Scorpius looked up pleadingly at him for a moment.

"Vincent, don't you think Mr Potter could use his friends around him?" Professor Flitwick interceded.

"Very well then, Filius. Weasley, Malfoy, you two may stay. The rest of you lot though, back to your tables. We've had quite enough excitement for one evening." A few "you heard the Professors" later from various prefects, and things had settled down for the time being. But the ramifications of this fraternal squabble were far-reaching. The following day's classes saw Gryffindor's third year students unable to find practice partners outside their own house. That evening at supper, the Great Hall began to hoot and whistle as the Gryffindor Quidditch team came in from practice in their kits. And, as quickly as Gryffindor House's standing in Hogwarts plummeted, my relationship with my older brother deteriorated twice as fast.

"Oi, Dark Lord Potter! Lose the minions, I want a word," James called out to the tables after supper that night. Four Hufflepuff fourth-years went to intercept him, but I sat them down.

"Gentlemen, please. This is between my brother and I. James, what can I do for you?" I asked cavalierly, walking over to the Gryffindor tables with swagger.

"This has got to stop, Albus. I will _not_ have my house team ridiculed like that."

"What do you mean _your_ house team, who put you in charge?"

"I'm the bloody captain, you swotty turd. Youngest captain since fucking Godric, or so they tell me. Not that you've once come out to a match."

"I can't stand the Quidditch, James, but you know that. Now what's your point in all this?"

"I could be arsed whether you come to a match, Al, but Gryffindor house is the class of Hogwarts, always has been and always will be. And you've turned us into a laughingstock, you and your minions over there."

"I think you and the goofy twins are doing a pretty good job of that yourselves."

"Albus, what the hell is all this? Okay, so we've never gotten along too well, but ever since that ruddy hat put you in Slytherin, you've just turned into someone else, strutting about like you're someone, instead of the midget third year that you are. And especially since you picked up that Muggle-born she-snake of yours for a girlfriend."

That was about all of this particular rant of James's that I cared to stand. The 'Puffs behind me were getting restless, too, as they noticed our demeanours turn sour.

"Look here, Gryffindor," I spat, placing my wand directly on his carotid artery. "You so much as mention Angelica one more time in my presence, and what happened to Freddy will seem like getting a love-note from an owl compared to what I could do to you. I don't prank, James. People who piss me off get hurt, badly. So if you care to try your luck, I'm open to it, because you're really starting to piss me off right about now. "

James walked away with a shocked look on his face and said nothing. My work was done.

While some things had changed significantly since Dad's time at Hogwarts, the Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Slytherin was still the most anticipated fixture on the Spring calendar. So it was of little surprise that there were only a few of us in the Great Hall getting some end-of-term projects out of the way during the match. Angelica, bless her soul, had only tried the one time to get me to sit with her in the Slytherin section for the match, although she did try to write some cheques with her mouth that her robe fastenings couldn't cover to get me there. I assume she had a wager going with her female housemates that she could "make me" attend a Quidditch match. At fifteen, that might actually have worked. Alas, I had a better offer from Flitwick and a Charms project that had me cause an entire table setting to dance a Quadrille.

I did catch her outside the stands as I heard a great whoosh of sound from the Quidditch pitch. She had a big smile on her face, and a breathless quality about her even before I kissed her in greeting.

"Oh, Albus, what a match! Slytherin won 740-680, but Gryffindor were just brilliant, too. Your brother scored 42 times, Albus. The old record was 27. You should be so proud! I know you two don't get on well, but – "

"Yes, yes. Good for him. Did you have a good time, love?"

"Good? It was brilliant, Albus! I do wish you'd've – mmrmph." And while I had hoped that kissing her soundly would get her mind off of Snitches and Quaffles, when her eyes became wide as saucers, I knew something else had grabbed her attention.

"Mrs Potter! I, er…"

Mum stood there with quite the amused smirk on her face. Next to her were Aunt Hermione and a rather striking woman of about the same age in Slytherin colours. It did take a moment or two for me to compose myself, during which time Mum had interceded.

"Quite all right, dear girl, I understand. He did inherit his father's unmanageable black hair and green eyes, after all. Albus, are you going to introduce me to your friend here, or are you just going to stand there with your mouth open?"

Speechless has never been a good look on me. 25th April, 2020 was the first and last time I was caught so horribly unawares.

"Right, yes. Of course. Sorry about that. Angelica, this is my mum, Ginevra Potter, and my Aunt, Hermione Weasley. Mum, Aunt Hermione, this is Angelica Moran." I turned to the woman standing next to them. "Madam, I'm afraid we haven't had the pleasure of your acquaintance, yet." She smirked at me as if she could read me like a cheap paperback, and then offered her hand.

"My name is Astoria Malfoy, Albus. And I must say it is a pleasure to meet members of my own house after spending the match surrounded by Scarlet and Gold." Mum was looking impatient.

"Angelica, it is lovely to meet you dear, but I'm afraid I'm going to need to take Albus from you for a bit. Family business and whatnot. You may see him again around supper." Angelica waved a sheepish goodbye at me as the three women fairly dragged me towards the Great Hall. The temperature dropped a good ten degrees as soon as Angelica was out of earshot, and I tried to make small-talk to compensate.

"So, James sets a new record then, Mum? Must have been proud of that? How many bludgers is that on the season for him, now?"

"Albus, this isn't a social call, and I'm in no mood for your humour. Let's just find your cousin and Scorpius and get this over with, shall we?" I shrank visibly as she snapped at me. This was a side of Mum I had never seen before, nor did I ever want to again.

We found Rose and Scorpius at the Hufflepuff table with a set of minuetting saucers. A quick _Finite Incantatem_ from Aunt Hermione, and the crockery came crashing down. Rose and Scorpius looked up in a huff, wands out, and then blanched visibly as they saw who had ended their dance early. Rose composed herself a moment and turned to the table as if she had been expecting this all day.

"Yes, well, it looks as though there might be a bit of family business here to sort out. You lot can take things from here, right? Very well then, do excuse us." And she and Scorpius got up from the table and joined us as we all followed Mum towards the Grand Staircase. We trudged en masse up seven flights of stairs and waited as Aunt Hermione paced three times down a corridor. She opened a door and the six of us walked in to a rather antiseptic grey room with a metal table and a floodlight pointing to three equally grey, equally metal chairs. Aunt Hermione's face opened up in horror as she saw this.

"No, that's not it at all," she said, quietly, and she screwed her face up in thought until the room changed. It looked like a cramped waiting lounge, with a settee big enough for three, and a faux fireplace behind Mum, Aunt Hermione and Mrs Malfoy. Aunt Hermione got a particularly wicked grin on her face as she noticed a rather hideous bronze statuette on the mantel. It was she that laid into us first, after forcibly sitting the three of us down without bothering to reach for her wand.

"Freddie Weasley has been seeing a Muggle healer for Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome since Halloween. I recognised the symptoms immediately, as I had had the same condition following my time under Bellatrix Lestrange's Cruciatus. Neither Freddy nor the healer would tell us who had put him in such a position." Mum cut in next.

"And had I not been the one to get James's letter, the three of you would be sitting in front of the Headmistress getting your wands snapped. As it was, I had to hide this from Harry and Ron until Hermione and I could convince George and Angelina not to press charges." As Mrs Malfoy drew a breath to continue, I marvelled that this seemed so extemporaneous, and yet so well-orchestrated. I resolved to ask Rose about that later.

"Do you have any idea what it was like, young man, for your father to have to go to Mr Weasley and _beg_ him not to press charges? He hasn't slept since – it's been like 1999 all over again in our house. We taught you better than this, Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy! We told you what kind of trouble your father got into here, and where things like that could lead. How could you, Scorpius? After all that we went through after the war, how could you?"

"Mum, I…"

"Shut up! I don't want to – " Mrs Malfoy collapsed into Aunt Hermione's arms, sobbing. Scorpius had tears openly running down his face. Aunt Hermione looked up at Mum questioningly, and Mum nodded in response, freeing up Aunt Hermione to take Mrs Malfoy into the corridor to calm down. Mum continued, as if she'd been rehearsing this all day.

"Right. Here's what we're going to do. By right, the three of you should have your wands snapped, and be tossed out of here on your arses, but we don't think making a mistake in your childhood should ruin the rest of your life. And we also know that Freddy, James and Roxanne weren't exactly blameless in this whole ordeal. So, after Ron, Harry and George are done talking with the Gryffindors, the three of you are going to go apologise, in person, to George and Freddy. This summer, Angelina is going to take the twins on holiday, whilst the three of you will be working for George in the shop and living with my mum and dad, who, to be honest, are probably the only two people in the family who could stand the sight of you at present. Now, I'm going to go outside and see to Astoria. Meanwhile, I want this room to stay exactly like this until I fetch you to face George and Freddy." Mum swept out of the room brusquely, leaving us in silence.

And we remained in silence for awhile. Scorpius continued to sob. Rose had a rather stunned expression on her face. Me? I was resolute. This was not going to get the best of me – I was Albus Potter after all. Sure, I'd apologise. I'd even work in their goofy shop. But they were not going to break me. They were not going to bring down everything we'd worked so hard to create at Hogwarts. The silence was broken after about five minutes.

"Scorpius?" asked Rose, timidly. Scorpius looked up at her, teary eyed. It couldn't have been easy for him to see his mother break down like she had.

"Scorpius, are we… I mean, do you still want to --?" Scorpius grabbed her hand and placed a finger on her lips, cutting her off. He then cleared his throat and looked at her with an earnestness about him that I had never seen before.

"Yes, Rose. Of course I do. Always."

The two of them exhaled, and I began to wonder when this would be over, so I could find Angelica again. Ha! Not ten minutes after the loudest scolding of my life and my mind was already on broom closets. They'd not get the best of me. Besides, Dad could never be that angry at me for that long, so he'd be good for a smile, at least. Obviously they were all meant to be mad at me, so he couldn't show much more emotion than that.

Mum came and got us about fifteen minutes after she'd left. The three of us shared some wan smiles and trudged our way back down the stairs, stopping on the fifth floor and taking the bridge to Gryffindor Tower. We stopped into the guest chamber next to Uncle Neville and Auntie Hannah's quarters, where we saw George, Uncle Ron, Dad and Freddy waiting for us. Uncle Ron spoke first.

"Right. You've all been told how we're handling this as a family. Astoria, again, I'm sorry you and M- you and Draco had to be brought into this. I did want to let you know that the others have been told that you three are completely off-limits for pranking, and that any inter-house problems they may have caused for Gryffindor are as much their fault as anyone's. This has gone far enough between you lot. Any more conflict between cousins or siblings of different houses and whoever started it will wind up in Muggle school. Now, you three have something to say to Freddy?"

And so we did. Rose apologised first, still a bit shaken from her conversation with Scorpius. I was next, a perfunctory apology at best that fulfilled the assignment, but that was it. Scorpius's earnestness carried him into this room as well, and he gave quite the tearful apology to both Uncle George and Freddy. And as quickly as that hour or so of hell had started, it was over. As we were leaving the guest chamber, I hung back a bit.

"Hey, Dad. I – I just wanted to say I'm – "

"Albus, don't," he replied sharply. "Just don't."

I gathered what was left of my pride and caught up with Rose and Scorpius, who were headed down to the Great Hall to resume their studies. I stopped them as soon as I reckoned we were out of ear-shot.

"Guys, I'm sorry." Scorpius looked at me as though I'd grown a fourth head.

"What do you mean, Albus? We were all involved in it, and we're all going to take our medicine now."

"Right, well if I hadn't run my big mouth off to James like I did, we wouldn't have gotten caught."

"Are you quite mad, Albus?" Rose asked, aghast. "Freddie – your cousin – has been in treatment for months over something we did, and you're worried that we got caught? Honestly!" Rose took Scorpius's arm brusquely and walked him towards Ravenclaw tower, leaving me to find the Great Hall on my own. I looked back to see if the adults had caught up, but there was no one behind us, either. I slunk down to the Slytherin common room hoping to find Angelica there. Not seeing her, I walked into the third year boys' dormitory room and found my charms project neatly arranged on my bed with a sweet note from Angelica that went a long way to picking up my flagging mood. A nap was most definitely in order.

Rose, Scorpius and I patched things up that evening after supper, which was important, because there were only two weeks left until the final Hogsmeade trip of the school year. This trip was important, because not only did we have to come up with outfits for ourselves, but for Angelica, too. She was both amused and curious about our calculated preparations for such things, and a bit impressed at the lengths to which we went to ensure that nothing was left to chance. As the first flashbulbs hit her face in the Three Broomsticks, I imagine she was grateful that we had.

The Hogsmeade trip went off without a hitch. Teen Witch Monthly had a few softball questions for her, which she handled deftly. We made appearances at Scrivenshaft's Gladrags and Honeydukes as well, and called it a day at about four o'clock, Angelica and I rather blissfully hand-in-hand the whole time. We remained hand-in-hand throughout most of the rest of the school year, experiencing many of the happiest days of my young life to that point. She made me happy. She made me forget that my parents hadn't written me, while Rose's and Scorpius's both had written them. And I still have the copy of TWM with our pictures in it that she autographed for me "With love from your Angelica" all these years later.

The Hogsmeade Express passes right next to Hadrian's Wall as it makes its way between Scotland to England, and it was there that she said to me, "So Albus, you still haven't told me what you're going to be doing all summer whilst I'm back in Eire."

"Oh, that. Well, do you remember when my mum came to see the Quidditch match in April? You see, the three of us got in a spot of trouble for something we did earlier in the year…"

And I answered all her questions, every one. I answered her questions about Flitwick's classroom, about Hugo, about how we decided what spells to use, and why we used Freddy's wand. I told her about the Muggle healer, and how we got caught, and what our parents said to us that day. Three hours I answered her questions, trying as hard as I could to be honest, even as I saw her face go from amused to horrified. And then she ran out of the compartment, the door closing with a sickening clack as I sat there, open-mouthed, with nothing more to say. I gave her a minute, maybe twenty, and then I went to look for her, finding her in a compartment by herself at the end of the train.

"Don't you dare take one step closer!" she shrieked, her wand pointed threateningly in my direction.

"Angelica, come on now. What is it? You're the one who asked all the questions, I – "

"Just leave, Albus. I really don't want to talk to you right now." I moved in closer to put my arm around her.

"Don't you DARE touch me. Out!" she screamed, and I left, heading back to the compartment we had shared. I sat by myself, cursing Hadrian's Wall, the Lancashire countryside, and anything else I could think of. Flipping through my schoolbooks didn't help. Finally, I just slept, waking as the train slowed down about five miles north of King's Cross.

Mum and Dad must not have seen me on the platform as they picked up Lily and James, because they turned around as I waved in their direction. Grandpa Weasley gathered up Rose, Scorpius and I, and we sat in silence in the Muggle Ford all the way to Ottery St. Catchpole, without even any wireless to distract me from my thoughts. When we got there, we were assigned rooms for the summer, and mention was made about this not being a holiday, and how we were to do our own laundry and such. I don't even remember if we ate supper that evening, but there I was, on the bed that had been my mother's, sobbing my eyes out.


	3. Letters over the summer

22nd June, 2020

Diagon Alley, London W1D 5DA England

My Dear Angelica:

I hope this note finds you well, that your connection in Cardiff wasn't as long as you had feared, and that you enjoyed the ferry ride to Waterford as you had hoped. I'm on my lunch break on my first day's work at WWW. Uncle George started off the day by explaining to us that as far as he was concerned, once we completed our service in his shop, all would be forgiven. The work is hard, because we're not allowed to use magic like Uncle George, but there are regular breaks, and Rose and Scorpius keep me amused. Uncle George has been very nice to us so far.

Mum came by yesterday to see me. She had a few letters in her hand that I was supposed to get during the school year. One of our owls had died, so she was sending all three letters to James, who was supposed to have given them to Lily and I, but I never got mine. Mum looked rather cross when she told me about this, but she didn't tell me what James was going to get as punishment. I told her that she needn't worry about the letters, because I had hardly noticed that they hadn't sent any, which brought a smile to her face. She looked really sad most of the time, to be honest, and sat with Grandmum Weasley for a long time after visiting me. She says either she or Dad will be round at least weekly to check up on me, and that they do love me (well, of course!) and that they hope something good comes out of all this. Oh, and she says "Hi".

Don't worry about all that bother on the Hogwarts Express, by the way. Most people who'd yell at me like that, I'd tell them to sod off, but you aren't most people, are you? So please do respond, as it will make the Summer that much more pleasant. Also, we're going to the Harry Potter Day Ball at the Ministry, and I'd love it if you came with me.

Yours,

Albus.

o0o0o

3rd July 2020

The Burrow, Ottery St Catchpole, Devon, England

Dear Angelica:

Rose was quite impressed with the way you handled things. She wants to know if Madam Norma contacted you (she's our insider at Teen Witch Monthly) to warn you that the paparazzi were on their way.

It's quite something; finding out your girlfriend's dumped you via the gossip mags. And Rose is right, after all. You handled that about as well as anyone could. I'm sure it wasn't easy to see random photographers and strange witches with Quote-Quills at your door. Not sure what I expected, if I'm honest. You could have told them the whole sordid story; painted me as some kind of criminal, good riddance to bad rubbish and all. But that doesn't seem like your style at all. And you were right; of course – what you said to them. I mean, It was silly of them (or me) to think that two fourteen year olds would stay together forever. And we had a good couple of months, all things considered. So, as long as you had to dump me via the mags, I imagine I ought to thank you for doing it the way you did. Please feel free to write back, anyway.

Meanwhile, I'm exhausted. Eighty-five owl orders came in today alone for Whiz-Bangs, and the shop was packed all day. Uncle George says it's because there are so many American ex-patriots living in London, and tomorrow's their big holiday. Didn't you say you have some relatives over there? He seemed pleased at the speed the till was moving. I just couldn't believe the number of goofballs. All Gryffs, or whatever passes for Gryffs in America, I suppose. Oh look, isn't that clever? It lights up and makes a fart sound. Let's all have a laff (oh, that accent!) now, shall we? Honestly!

So I suppose I could wax maudlin and tell you that I miss you already, but you probably don't care to hear that. Or care at all. I'll just tell you that I hope all is well wherever you are.

-Albus.

o0o0o

18 July 2020

12 Grimmauld Pl, London W1D 6SB, England

It's been a month since I told you about what we did to Freddy. My parents – his aunt and uncle, mind – have forgiven me and moved on. As you can see, we've all moved back in to our own houses, and Grandmum and Grandpa Weasley had a big party for us. Uncle George wants to know how all of Hufflepuff House fit into the store at once to wish the three of us well. Then he wants to know if we can come back every summer. That's Freddy's father. He's forgiven me a month and a half ahead of schedule, and is generally happy to see all three of us every morning. That's everyone but the one girl whose forgiveness I really want the most. Mum has enclosed a VIP invitation for you to the Ball. I told her she was mad for doing so, but she insisted. So I'm sorry if that comes off as pushy or whatever. I'm not trying to buy you back – it wasn't my idea. I asked you a month ago.

The best part of Summer had always been getting your letters. So if you send nothing else than a note telling me to sod off, please send me something. If you can send me some forgiveness along with that note, well, I'd appreciate that, too.

-Albus.

o0o0o

London, 18 July 2020

Dear Angelica:

Albus tells me that he told you about the Harry Potter Day Ball, but I wanted to make sure you had your own invitation.

But I also wanted to write you myself. From everything Rose tells me, you're a lot like I was with her parents and Harry – a fourth to a trio. And from what she tells me, you and Albus have a bit of a history together even before you were romantically involved, so I'm sure you and he will be back to friends again before too long.

If you change your mind about the Ball, let me know so we can make time to get you something to wear. Miss Patil is, after all, an old school chum of Harry and mine. However, if you'd rather go with a Muggle gown, there may be one or two shops here in London that would have something nice. I'd be happy to take you alone – we'll leave the trios to do trio things. Have your parents ring me up here – our tellynumber hasn't changed since the Christmas hols, at least not that I'm aware of.

And if you don't change your mind about the Ball, feel free to write me any time.

All the best,

Ginny Potter.

o0o0o

18 July 2020

Clones, Co. Monaghan, Eire

Dear Albus,

If the invitation is still good, I'd love to accompany you to the Harry Potter Day Ball.

Blessings,

Angelica

o0o0o

**Author's Note:** A bit of a short chapter, but I think it gets the point across. Plus, it was either end it here or wait another month to get a chapter published. Next up for the trio: off to the ball!


	4. TWM: 3rd August, 2020

**Mercury Glitters Brighter than Gold at the Harry Potter Day Ball**

_A Teen Witch Monthly Exclusive_

A veritable Who's Who of the Magical world converged on the Ministry of Magic's Grand Ballroom as July gave way to August for the 21st annual Harry Potter Day Ball. Head Auror Potter, celebrating his 40th birthday in grand style was accompanied by his family – although eldest son James (15) was quite conspicuous in his absence. Daughter Lily (12) hung on every word her daddy spoke during a blissfully short five-minute speech, and made the rounds through the ball dutifully attached to her mother's side. Ron and Hermione Weasley, never far from their old school chum, were in attendance, along with son Hugo (12), seated next to Professor Neville Longbottom and his wife Hannah. Luna and Rolf Scamander sent their regrets, as twin cherubs Lysander and Lorcan apparently were home with a mild case of Dragon Pox. We at Teen Witch Monthly send our best wishes for a speedy recovery. A surprise guest at the head table was the former love-interest of Head Auror Potter's middle child, the enigmatic Muggle-born Angelica Moran (14). Dressed to the nines in a darling (and daring!) Muggle gown from Vivienne Westwood (pictures on p. 76), Angelica seemed poised to capture the spotlight on Magical society's biggest night, showcasing her sparkling personality and biting Irish wit. We don't wonder that she and Albus Potter became an item, and the young lass and her former beau's mum Ginny seemed to have become fast friends themselves.

But the entrance our readers want to hear about was that of our own Mercurial Trio, who at 14 years old graduated to the grown-ups table this year with style. Escorted by her sumptuous best mates, cousin Albus Potter and friend Scorpius Malfoy, Rose Weasley was the belle of this year's Ball; a gracious young woman with a full dance-card and a keen sense of style that belies her rather hum-drum family. The trio treated the red carpet like a performance in and of itself, wearing robes coordinated with flawless precision. They even managed to conjure a mild wind-charm that cloyingly ruffled their hair and billowed their cloaks as they strutted in-step and arms locked from their coach to the entrance, walking slowly enough that paparazzi and well-wishers alike got more than an eyeful of these stylish youngsters (pictures pages 77-80). Rose shared dances with both of her escorts, her uncle Harry, daddy Ron and several other senior members of the Auror Corps. Albus and Scorpius, as boys will tend to be, were more reserved in their dancing, with Scorpius treating a suprised Ginny Potter to a twirl on the dance floor, and Albus reserving his dancing for his former girlfriend Angelica, in addition to Rose.

We tried to catch up with the entire Trio after the ball, but Albus was unavailable. However, the two Ravenclaw members of the group were gracious enough to spend a few moments with this reporter.

**TWM: **Rose, Scorpius, thank you both so much for taking a few moments with us tonight. I know you must be dead on your feet from all that dancing, so we'll keep this short. I want to ask you both about who you're wearing and what you've been doing, but first, what's the latest with Albus and Angelica?

**RW:** All I can say right now, Magda, is that they're no longer a couple. Aunt Ginny invited her to the ball; she and Albus are on good terms – friends even, but they're no longer together.

**SM: **She and Mrs Potter do get along smashingly, but she was our friend first, and will continue to be for as long as she wishes.

**TWM: **And while our readers will be delighted to hear that young Albus is back on the market, how is he faring through all this?

**SM: **Albus is a tough bloke, really, and he'll get through this just fine. Having the Ball to prepare for did lift his spirits a bit. The wind charm was his idea, as were the crystal sparklers in Rose's hair.

**RW: **Actually, Scorpius, those come from my Uncle George's shop on Diagon Alley: Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes. They're part of WWW's longstanding WonderWitch line of products.

**SM: **Yes, but you wearing them today was…

**TWM:** Right, well, time to sort all that out later, wouldn't you think? Now, speaking of your uncle's shop, the three of you have been spotted working there during the summer. Care to tell our readers what that was all about?

**RW: **Sure, I'll have a go at this one. The three of us got into a spot of trouble back at school. It was a family matter, although one that Scorpius got caught up in as well, so it was settled thusly. Working at Uncle George's shop was our restitution to him and to his family. It's been a wonderful experience, we surprisingly enough have enjoyed working there, and we invite your readers to come have a look. 93 Diagon Alley here in London. And that's all we have to say on the matter.

**TWM: **Oh my. Even in this era of détente, it does seem a bit strange to hear of a Malfoy working at WWW. How has this summer been for you then, Scorpius?

**SM:** The Weasleys have treated me with nothing but kindness since I first met Albus and Rose in First Year. I was honoured to be a guest at the Burrow for the first month of the Summer holidays. And while I doubt that my father and Mr Weasley – any of the Misters Weasley, that is – are going to be having each other round for tea any time soon, any seriously hard feelings between our families have faded nearly away these past twenty years.

**TWM: **Our readers will certainly be heartened to hear that. I know I am. Now, to important matters. The three of you looked flat-out glamorous tonight. Did Pavarti Patil design those originals the three of you are wearing tonight, Rose?

**RW: **Of course. Miss Patil has been our designer of choice since 2017, and she's really rather outdone herself for the Ball this year. Do note the stitch-work on the bodice; and the luminescent embroidery is just fabulous. And didn't she have the boys looking sharp, too?

**TWM:** Oh, certainly. Although I must admit the colour choice was a bit off-putting. No blue and bronze? No green and silver?

**SM:** We wanted to show a bit of range, actually. Indigo and black was a combination that worked with each of our colourings, and it allowed so much latitude. Having Rose in an inverse colour scheme was another of Albus's brilliant touches. And he was right; it did spotlight her nicely.

**RW:** Yes, and who wants to see a pair of swotty old boys mill about when there's a pretty girl who's actually dancing, anyway? (general laughter)

**TWM:** Right. Well, I must say the three of you made quite the impression tonight, and on behalf of Teen Witch Monthly readers, I'd like to thank you for your time.

_Magda Swinburne_


	5. The Favourite Aunt

Trust mum to know just what to say. She took care of the particulars, even nearly managed to use the telephone gracefully whilst speaking to Angelica's parents. Angelica was to arrive via international Portkey on 22nd July, which was a Wednesday; she'd get a day to settle in and get used to her roommate's squeals (she was bunking in with Lily), and then meet us after work on Friday to pick up books and supplies for the following school year.

One would have thought I'd either be overjoyed to see her again or beside myself with worry that she'd be hateful and spiteful to me the moment her feet touched English soil. But I was neither. My mood was much more ennui than a blasé one – I knew things had run their course between us romantically, and the brush-off I'd received still smarted a bit. But Angelica was, before anything else, a friend. Moreover, she was a friend outside the Trio, so I never felt as though I had to 'keep up appearances' around her. We talked about everything together; swapped as many stories as we did saliva in the broomclosets and classrooms, and had a closer relationship than I had ever had with anyone that wasn't family, with the possible exception of Scorpius.

At fourteen though, one isn't always aware of exactly what one is feeling, and one is especially unaware of why one may be feeling that unnamed feeling. What I knew is that I wasn't particularly excited about the visit one way or the other. And that had Mum and Dad a bit concerned. After the third rather poignant and heart-warming family chat about "the confusing feelings I must be going through, now being fourteen and all," I resolved to put on a much more confident exterior, lest the fourth conversation broach the more physical aspects of puberty. And this worked, for a while. At least it did until we spent the afternoon with Aunt Audrey.

Audrey Weasley is a muggle. Not a squib, not someone who never quite got the hang of basic transfiguration and charms, a bona fide muggle. Which, from all the stories I've heard of Uncle Percy's childhood, must have been the only way he was able to fully get back into his parents' good graces. Until they met her.

Together, one would think Uncle Percy and Aunt Audrey fit like treacle and tart. Witch Weekly and the Prophet have both done extensive exposés on "The Muggle Who Charmed The Man Who Would Be Minister," and in each of them we see her looking every inch the dutiful English wife and mother, collecting Lucy and Molly from muggle primary school and football practise, waxing sincerely on the importance of keeping secrecy statutes, and always attired in a smart frock appropriate to her age, station and colour scheme. And until she showed us muggle photographs (the kind that don't move) from her secondary school days, I believed her. But something in the purposefully-smeared candy-apple red lipstick, the trail of eyeliner, the electric-blue hair and the all-black ensemble in various stages of disrepair led me to believe there was something more to Dear Old Auntie Audrey than she let on.

The three of us were waiting in Uncle Percy's office for Angelica's portkey to arrive. And while the muggles figured out international travel about 100 years prior, for some reason it takes an act of Merlin to get a girl from Eire to England, especially if she's brought to the Irish ministry by muggles. Muggles who can't fathom why it should take three seconds for a wizard to Apparate from Belfast to Cork, but four days to arrange the paperwork to Portkey from Dublin to London. And that's only if your English hosts happen to be The Boy Who Lived and the sister of the man tipped to be the next Minister for Magic.

So there we were, waiting. Why were we waiting? Well, we didn't know, but we did manage to ask that question in a three-part round a good half-dozen times before Uncle Percy asked us to either hush or find somewhere else to spend our afternoon. So we hushed.

"Did you see that cloak? She's not a day over 30, for Merlin's sakes. What is that, the latest in widow's wear?"

"Uncle Percy, I know you're dead proud of Gryffindor house and all, but that scarlet and gold colour scheme does nothing for your complexion whatsoever. Have you thought about an olive or a burnt orange? Really, let me just try an accent wall for you -- I'm sure you can take care of any underage magic owls, can't you?"

And it was then that Uncle Percy huffed dramatically, got up from his desk, and returned to his office three minutes later with Aunt Audrey in tow. We thanked Uncle Percy for his hospitality (probably a bit less efficiently than he would have liked, but no matter), and shuffled off to Ministry Row. Flooing into Uncle Percy and Aunt Audrey's brownstone, we heard a loud *tsk* from Aunt Audrey. And then a huff of her own. Followed by

"Of course you know I do love your Uncle Percy to pieces, but honestly, he does have a rather sizeable stick up his arse, doesn't he?"

We just looked at each other a moment. You could have heard a quill drop.

"Oh come now. You're fourteen, the lot of you. I know you've heard worse -- probably swear like sailors whilst you're off at that school of yours," Aunt Audrey continued with a smirk. "And Rose? You're absolutely right: Miss Beschler could certainly do with a bit of wardrobe help. Right. Now you're all standing about with your mouths hanging open catching flies. You have exactly thirty seconds to cut that out before I take you straight back to your Uncle Percy's office."

"Er, Mrs Weasley?" Scorpius asked, tentatively, just as our time was ending, "are those... combat boots you're wearing?"

"Mrs Weasley is my sainted mother-in-law, dear boy. My name is Audrey. You are Scorpius Malfoy, right?"

"Yes Ma'- er, Audrey."

"Well, Scorpius, it is a pleasure. As to your question, no. These are jump boots. Combat boots hit the bottom of the calf, while jump boots go above it. Quite the fashion statement when I was your age. And since Magical folk are just a decade removed from Mackintoshes and kilts, I suspect I can even wear them in this day and age."

"Wicked!" And Rose snapped out of her (relatively) near catatonic state. "Actual muggle fashion. You wouldn't happen to have, er..."

"We call them photographs, too, Rose. And as a matter of fact, I might have one or two around," Aunt Audrey said with a wicked grin. And that's where it began. Aunt Audrey had a rather extensive album of her school days, which we spent the better part of two hours dishing. Aunt Audrey also informed us that no perusal of period fashion would be complete without period music as accompaniment, so she brought out her collection of small plastic boxes she called "cassettes".

"Cheery song that," quipped Scorpius at one point during the afternoon. "I'd rather not have a double-decker bus crash into me, thank you very much, regardless of who was by my side."

"Quiet," I barked in reply. The song made sense, were he to listen to more than just the chorus. It had been too young since I was 'young and alive,' and the singer's snarky, ironic tone simply mirrored my own state of mind too well.

"The name of the group is 'The Smiths', Albus. But Scorpius is right, it is a bit dreary. 'Course I didn't think so at the time, mind. Here, this is a picture of some of us going to one of their concerts at Wembley. We were the height of fashion, you know." Aunt Audrey chuckled. The picture was interesting. Had I not known better, I'd have sworn her beau was a wizard, wearing as he was high-buckled boots, a long black trench coat, fingerless mesh gloves and a ruffled shirt. His hair was wildly styled, and his makeup was smeared and haphazard.

"Did many muggle blokes wear make-up back then, Aunt Audrey?" I asked. This was something new for all of us. Rose was studying the gauzy fabric in the girls' dresses, while Scorpius was entranced by the demeanour of the concert-goers (their aggressive nonchalance was apparent, even though the picture didn't move). Aunt Audrey looked at her watch.

"Only for special occasions, love." Aunt Audrey turned off the music, and then handed me a small object about the size of a package of Droobles.

"Here's that song you enjoyed so much. It's the ninth one on there. You might enjoy the rest of the album, too. But we really should be getting back to the Ministry; I think your friend should have arrived about five minutes ago."


	6. Why are you on your own tonight?

Angelica 6

"Er, hi."

That was it. No snarky 'All right then? Nearly finished jumping up and down on what's left of my heart?' No pleading 'Oh, thou love of my life, prithee do return thine affections hence.' No recitations of poetry, no declarations of any sort whatsoever. Just "Hi". And that was all she had in response, too.

Rose had, of course, sensed the awkwardness immediately, and began making all manner of small talk, using Scorpius as a sounding board. Aunt Audrey was doing her level best to keep up with the young Ravenclaw, and between the three of them, the snarky wit quotient among our parade back to the Ministry Floo Bank was off the charts. Dad and Uncle Percy were leading on, chatting about goings-on in the Ministry. Aunt Audrey, Rose and Scorpius were blathering on incessantly, hoping they could remove the awkwardness by the sheer magnitude of their collective verbosity. Angelica and I were wishing we could be anywhere but where we were. Another place and another time, and this would have given us a bit of camaraderie. Alas…

Rose and Scorpius were staying for supper, and Aunt Hermione, Uncle Ron and Hugo came over as well, so there were plenty of distractions for Angelica and I to avoid each other that first evening. Mum had made the Coq Au Vin recipe she got from Tante Fleur; which is what she usually makes when there's company coming in via Ministry portkey, as it holds up (actually, it gets better) while waiting for hours under a warming charm.

Before supper, Lily showed Angelica to her room, while I fumbled about, allegedly helping Mum finish things up for supper. Aunt Audrey bade me goodbye with a kiss on both cheeks and a warm "Ciao, ducks!" before surreptitiously wishing me luck. Aunt Hermione was gracious enough both to lend me a pair of something she called 'ear buds' for the album Aunt Audrey had given me, as well as spelling the album so its battery wouldn't run out.

"Goodness, Albus," she said after getting a look at what Aunt Audrey had lent me, "That's a bit dated, isn't it? That music's even before my time."

"Aunt Audrey played it for us this afternoon, and I thought it was brilliant. I don't think Rose agrees with me on that account, though, so no worries for you there."

After supper was Exploding Snap (in which Mum rather surprisingly gave Rose a run for her money) and poker (owned by Angelica and I, with Aunt Hermione winning her share of hands) until 10, at which point Scorpius was due back at his house, and Rose's family headed back to theirs. I bade a pleasant goodnight to all, including our guest, and retreated to the sanctuary of my room.

Dad knocked on my door about an hour later, cracked the door open and found me with my nose planted in to Miss Patil's latest owl-order catalogue, and ear buds in my ears, oblivious to the outside world.

"All right, Albus?" I about jumped out of my skin.

"Do you mind? I'm a bit busy here, Dad."

"Right. Well, I just wanted to make sure things were okay. You seemed a bit distant down there."

"A lot of things on my mind. Promise, if I need to talk, I'll come find you." The last thing I wanted was another 'don't bottle it all up like I did when I was your age' prattle from Dad. Yes, I knew full well that we're cut from the same cloth, Slytherin and all. Yes, I'm well aware that brooding is not particularly healthy behaviour. But for fuck's sake, leave it be already.

"Might I have a listen?"

I switched the album to 'speaker' mode, and it was just the right song, too. I'd been playing it about half a dozen times in succession.

I know it's over

And it never really began

But in my heart it was so real

And you even spoke to me, and said:

"If you're so funny

Then why are you on your own tonight?

And if you're so clever

Then why are you on your own tonight?

If you're so very entertaining

Then why are you on your own tonight?"

Dad reached over and shut the player off.

"That's a bit moody, don't you think?"

"I think it fits the mood just perfectly," I replied. "Do I look like I need some Celestina bloody Warbeck at the moment? Why don't you just let me be – I'm busy here. Please?" And I turned the player back on to headphones, and quite demonstratively slipped the ear buds back in – as much as they were hurting my ears. Dad left, thankfully without another word.

Breakfast was a quiet affair, more so because I had the ear buds in the whole time. Dad tried to rip them out of my ears, but Mum was good enough to ask him to let me be. James was going on about something, and Lily kept trying to get Angelica to talk about anything. I was able to get down a cup of coffee and a piece of toast before retreating back to my room.

And it was there, ten minutes later, that Angelica showed up.

"Albus, please. If you're not going to talk to me, at least pretend to talk to me long enough for your sister to leave me the hell alone."

That did manage to get my attention. And it managed to elicit a snarky grin, which brought a smile to Angelica's face.

"Look, I know this whole thing was your mum's doing, and it's not too terribly comfortable for me, either. I just…" and she grabbed my hands, "Albus, can we talk this out? You know, the way we ought to have on the train?"

"You're a hell of a lot more put together than I am if you think we can just talk through this." I thought the snark would be appreciated. Serves me right for thinking, apparently.

"Oh, Jesus, Mary and Joseph, Albus! Do you really think this is easy for me, being here? Yes, I know it was absolute shite the way I treated ye back in June, but I'll be fucked if they teach a girl how to handle 'me boyfriend has it in 'im te torture 'is own bloody cousin' anywhere. Now, yer mam's been good enough to put me up and we're goin' out te get me a bloody frock fer the ball, so I'll be the polite little girl while I'm here, but don't ye think it'd be better if we could just clear the air a bit between us, so as we can hold a civil tongue to each other? What?"

"Sorry, love, it's just difficult to hold a straight face whilst getting dressed down in an Irish brogue," I said between chuckles. Angelica started to giggle a bit, too, which was nice. She sat down on the bed next to me and held my hands again. We just looked at each other for a bit, before she took a rather ponderous breath.

"I wasn't meant to be in Slytherin, you know."

"Come again?" I asked, rather startled.

"No. The bloody hat wanted to put me in with the Gryffs. Could you have imagined that? Me trading lipsticks with your sister?"

"How did you manage to get out of that?"

"I remembered what you told me – that the hat would take my wishes into consideration. Well, that and promising to find a way to get even with the daft thing helped, I'm sure."

"But you didn't know anything about the houses at that point. Why would you – " I knew the answer to this, honestly I did. But it did feel good to hear her say

"Because you were going to Slytherin, ye daft ponce. And you were the first one to really be nice to me. The others, well, they just wanted to know about being a Muggle or whatever – hell, I don't know, I was just in a compartment with a couple of obnoxious Gryffs – but even though you were famous, it was like you appreciated that I knew feck all about any of it, and cared less."

We sat in silence again for a moment or twenty – not really sure how long it was. Angelica moved the fringe out from over my eyes and ran her fingers along the length of my face, tracing my jawbone. I returned the gesture, and she grabbed hold of my hand, kissed it gently, and put it down inside one of hers.

"My parents are moving, Albus. I only have another year at Hogwarts."

"When did you find this out?"

"They found out at the end of May, when Dad got a position with a firm in Boston. I'll be dead close to Salem, but the window for transfers closes in January. Last week I got a letter stating that I was set to enter fifth year in September, 2021."

"All settled then, is it?" I asked, rather melancholy. Angelica wasn't faring much better.

"Right," she said, rolling her eyes, "I'll be a proud member of the Salem Institute of Witches class of 2024."

I squeezed her hands tighter. She was looking for some word of encouragement from me, some _something_ that would make this be even just the slightest bit okay. I did the best I could.

"We'll have this year together though, won't we?"

That seemed to work just fine, which I figured out about the moment she cupped my face in her hands and kissed me for everything she was worth. She pulled me down with her, so that we were both lying on the bed, hands running through each other's hair with abandon. Two, or maybe twenty minutes of that later, and my hands had found their way along her arching spine, under her shirt, brain hard at work remembering _"Pinch, then twist. Pinch, then twist."_ And it was then that the spell was rather rudely broken.

"Al! What in Merlin's name do you think you're doing there?"

I looked up, saw that it was James, and went back to what I was doing. He wouldn't let go of it, however.

"Albus! I asked you a question!"

"You're the Quidditch aficionado among us, James, so correct me if I'm wrong; I think I was aiming at the right hoop. Now if you'll excuse us…" And I grabbed my wand from the nightstand and closed the door in his face. Three seconds later we were interrupted again by his dulcet tones yelling down three flights of stairs.

"Mum, they're snogging! On his bed! You said you'd not let me out of the house for a week if you caught me snogging some girl on my bed!"

No, no we weren't, James. At least not after you opened your fat gob. I think we may have nearly broken several laws of physics, both magical and Muggle, sitting up as quickly as we did.

"James _Sirius_ Potter!" we heard ring from downstairs, "You _will_ get your arse down here this _instant_, and leave your brother and his friend _be_!"

It was difficult to stifle our laughter. I'd never heard my mother utter an oath of any sort before, and I know Angelica was similarly surprised. There was a moment before either of us spoke, but it was Angelica who once again broke the silence.

"Thought you were going to score right-hoop, did you, Potter?" I gave her her cheeky grin right back.

"I _was_ aiming that way, Moran. And you know, I have some fair Quidditch players in my family."

"And with the size of your family, you'd think they were all Seekers, too," she snorted. We smiled at each other, and she placed a soft kiss on my lips. Which I returned. And she returned one back. And the kisses lingered more and more each time, until

"Hem, hem."

This time it was mum at the doorway. We straightened ourselves up fairly quickly once again.

"I want to see at least one foot from each of you touching the floor, and I want this door left open. Is that clear?" Mum asked, more than a little reproof in her voice. We nodded in agreement.

"Good. Now, that bit of unpleasantness out of the way, please let me apologize for James's behaviour earlier. His father and I will make sure he doesn't bother you two again. Angelica, Mrs Weasley and I will be ready to go in 10 minutes."

"Mrs Potter?" Angelica asked.

"Yes, dear?"

"Not meaning to be rude, ma'am, but which Mrs Weasley?" Mum laughed; an honest laugh, one I'd never heard her laugh around children before.

"That'd be Albus's Aunt Audrey, love." Angelica and I both smiled.


	7. Epilogue: Fifth Year

**Author's Note: **And you thought this was dead. Thanks to Sara, Katy and Suzanne for taking a look at this final installment of Angelica. And many apologies to my readers for leaving this so long without an update. Believe me, after the nightmares that were finishing Summer of '96 and finishing this, I've sworn off chaptered fic forever. Or at least until I'm hit with the next plotbunny. Thank you for your patience, and please enjoy.

Epilogue: Fifth Year

By all rights, it was her turn to send an Owl. Sure, Massachusetts was pretty far away, but it wasn't California. Or Alaska. So she really ought to have written.

Fourth year had been almost unfairly delicious. We had parted, knowing full well that however wide the ocean, there would always be us. Albus and Angelica. First-team broom closet brigade, and owner of a higher indoor Quidditch score than James could ever hope to tally in the outdoor game. Had there been a school ball of some sort, we would have been King and Queen.

We were nearly as inseparable the Summer after; keeping the embers of our love hot through parchment we'd charmed just for that purpose before we left school. Scroll after scroll waxing poetic on the perfume in her hair, the blazing fire in her eyes, the little mewling sound she'd make when I nibbled on the crook of her neck, or when I had my hand under her jump-

Yes, and just that abruptly, it ended. By the Yule Hols of Fifth Year, she'd cooled considerably; our missives reduced to accounts of our day, and her remarking on the brilliance of the local foliage in Autumn. By the time classes had re-started what had been daily letters had turned weekly. And then every other week. By the time I got her last letter, it had been three weeks since the Intercontinental Post Owl had flown mine westward.

Lunchtime. Thursday, 11th February 2021. "_Dear Albus_," it started. "_I don't know how to tell you this. This is the hardest…_" After that, I just sort of skimmed. His name was Dominic. Or Donatello. Or something – whatever – she'd found herself some Dago over there in Massachusetts, and he was brilliant like me and she was sorry if it was a shock and she didn't mean to hurt me, and she valued our friendship and the time we had together blah blah blah…

I was never cursed with the Weasley appetite, but even by my standards I wasn't hungry. I suppose someone asked about my condition, because someone else ribaldly suggested "It must have been a good one. Look, he's just staring into space!" A nudge woke me from my revelry.

"Albus? Come on, mate, tell us. How good was it?"

"Oh, right. Brilliant," I answered. "She's snogging some macaroni-eating bastard from New York. Fucking brilliant, what?" One of the Slytherin girls piped up from a few seats over.

"Oh, Albus. Come on. That's not fair. Domingo's Puerto Rican, not Italian. And I'm sure he's a very nice boy. Didn't you get Angie's letter last week? That's what the students at Salem are calling her, you know. She said she wanted to make a clean – " The Slytherin girl had been _Sliencioed_ by one of the 'Puffs.

A lone tear had made its way out of the corner of my right eye, and traced a lazy line down my cheek. Meanwhile, the entire Great Hall had stopped eating to watch the proceedings. One could hardly blame them, of course. This was drama of the highest order; love, betrayal, swarthy men in far-off places like "Massachusetts" and "The Bronx". Plus, there was that girl from Slytherin making some poor attempt at a power-play, but only coming across as a cold-hearted bitch. Straight out of a Wizarding Wireless Network melodrama.

And I was the star attraction. Now, being raised nearly as much at The Burrow as I was at 12 Grimmauld Place, I knew two things about how to cope with such drama. Women do their best to maintain decorum at all costs over a cuppa. Men either dash out a door or apparate away, dramatically. Find out that Teddy has been Victoire's beard all these years when she comes home with a half-shaved head and a lover with more steel in her face than flesh? Dash! goes Uncle Bill out the door. "Auntie" Verity pops out a little red-haired sprog and mysteriously comes into 1/6 ownership of Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes? Bring out the Earl Grey for Aunt Angelina. So, in retrospect, there probably wasn't anything else I could have done at that moment besides making my escape there and then. It felt somehow primal, following in the footsteps of my forefathers thusly. It felt right, good.

So, half an hour later when I arrived casually on-time for Transfiguration, why did they all look at me as if I'd grown a second head? Why did the professor ask if I were well enough to sit the class? And why wouldn't they just all bugger off and let me study in peace?

Come to think of it, why did that Slytherin girl from earlier look as though she'd developed the worst case of Spattergroit on record?

"Are you quite sure you're up to this, Albus?" Scorpius asked after I'd sat down next to him. "The Professor saw it, too. Reckon it wouldn't really be skiving off if you wanted a lie-in for the afternoon."

"Et tu, Scorpius?" I asked. "All I want to do right now is focus on my Transfiguration O.W.L. Angelica – or 'Angie,' I suppose it is now – can't take that away from me now, can she? Oh, and what's with her?" I pointed at the oozing-pustule laden Slytherin witch.

"Who, Chly? Got what's coming to her, ducks. Don't think even any of the Slytherin girls will be talking to her now, after what she did to you at lunch."

"She didn't tell me anything new, Scorpius. Angelica'd been distant for awhile now. Suppose she needed time to 'process' our 'relationship' after dragging half of Salem into whatever passes for broomclosets in America. Now, why won't this damned rat turn colour? Yellow, dammit!"

And turn colour it did; just not yellow. Red streaks of rat blood and rat nasty bits went flying as the rat exploded. And my need to flee the scene returned. It was one thing to have a burst of accidental magic as a firstie – usually didn't happen, but apart from a good ribbing, there was no harm, and it was hardly unheard of. But as a fifth-year? A little more than a year from majority in Wizarding society? Heartbreaking embarrassing. But the professor stole my moment when he_ Evanescoed_ the classroom and rather unceremoniously informed me that I would be better off spending the balance of the class day in the dormitory.

I would remain in my dormitory through Friday and the weekend. Bless their hearts, neither Rose nor Scorpius would leave my side the entire time. We played hand after hand of Exploding Snap on a bed that Scorpius transfigured wide enough to sleep three. When I couldn't sleep, they stayed up with me to hear me dissect every moment of Angelica and my time together. And when all I could do was sleep, they snuggled in close on either side, letting me know that mick bint or no mick bint, I was loved, and there was nothing that would take them from me.

My roommates, Nott, Fawcett and Fletcher, were brilliant during this time. They left us alone, got Rose and Scorpius changes of clothes from Ravenclaw, respected our privacy, and generally refrained from commenting on what to anyone would seem quite an odd sleeping arrangement. They brought us meals from the kitchens, and kept watch out for any nosy prefects or concerned younger students. They kept the tables going all weekend, and if the rumour mill is to be believed (not that they'd ever cop to this), more than one hex was thrown down in our name.

All in all, it was a much better way to spend Valentine's Day than yet another jaunt into Hogsmeade. Rose and Scorpius felt the same way. That Sunday night, when we knew that our holiday from the Hogwarts scene was coming to an end, there were tears in all our eyes. We knew nothing would ever be the same between the three of us; we had been through too much together and come out the other side. I rather wondered if Dad had had these moments with Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione whilst they were in the Forest of Dean. Unfortunately for the mood, though, I wondered this aloud.

"Right. I see all this heartbreak has gotten your head all soft, Albus. Definitely time to head back to reality in the morning, what?"

Scorpius was right, of course. By Monday morning, it was well and truly over. We got up, dressed, made our faces, and headed to the Great Hall. And if nothing else came from this experience with Angelica, seeing the Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin tables all stand as we came in told us one thing. Hogwarts was truly ours.


End file.
